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My sweet husband has spent the past two weekends off hunting the mighty steelheads. Alas, to no avail, but the value of leaving his grad student wife a quiet house in her last few weeks of toil -- that's immeasurable. Miss G, however, is not a fan of the truck packing.
New boots! The old ones were felt-bottomed and are now passe, as life gets into the felt and gets transferred around from river to river.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNNleg4okHUnNiyZz0lylFgMpBbxiVClqgVlXeBvNVluR3JHpDVzTkSDHxg-ARYu6zU7Hf9cl_EZderi7f5Iw_9k3LWUMDJsgiBCIJ8nuNjGpFOXoEvwDQLbOzbf2dbaMex05BRnZWqjc/s400/4+pants.JPG)
Plus, I think you want to convince the fishes you have no legs, and your arms are made of sky.
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This was supposed to be the ticket...the "Willie Nelson." It's red, white, (hard to see) and blue...
and has red hair. ;)
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There's still snow up in Stanley. Lovely, but chilly.
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And thus, Miss G began sitting vigil, waiting, watching the door until her boy returned. SERIOUSLY. She's dedicated.
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